


Journey to nowhere

by rune_goblin



Category: Kdrama - Fandom, Star Trek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 19:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18414161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rune_goblin/pseuds/rune_goblin
Summary: The world has become uninhabitable for reasons unknown. Humanity has escaped to the stars. The lack of resources and desperation has united both North and South Korea, as the Korean Federation, owning a mercantile and military space fleet numbering a mere two thousand lives - the best and brightest - to survive the harsh reality of space.





	Journey to nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> (requires sensitivity readers, please give constructive feedback)

scene 1: A classroom, everyone is in the same uniform, a crisp shirt and long pants, girls and boys, men and women, with few markings to tell them apart. There are individual pods attached with a monitor and headphones for each student who stand at ease, hands behind their backs, answering questions quietly and calmly. Everything seems to be run by A.I., every learning program catered to the level of the student and supposedly, to the interests of both their natural talents and the Federation's needs. A teacher walks about silently with a digital pad monitoring each student's progress and scores.

The teacher pauses at a teenage boy, 16 years of age, who is beginning to show signs of agitation. Noticing an increase in heart rate, the system grants him a two minute reprieve, the countdown timer appearing on the screen. He shakily removes the headphones from his head, laying them around his neck, breathing heavily. The teacher waits by, slightly worried.

Boy1: Teacher, you knew about this?

Teacher: It's a prestigious position. Your grades were satisfactory, but not stellar, for the course you applied for.

Boy1: I can make it. I still have some time, why the rush? Why, me?

Teacher: The Federation has need for this and the reports -

Boy1: (interrupts) I understand, (with disdain) the reports, of course.

Noticing the sarcasm in his voice, the A.I. responds by playing soft calming music by stringed instrumentsinto the headphones by his ears. The boy is shocked, a look of fear momentarily washes over his features before violently flings the headphones from him and stomps away. In doing so, he draws the attention of the other students in the room/hall. One boy, slightly more unkempt than the others, stares longer after him even when everyone has given the tantrum a mere glance. Boy2 receives a minor shock from his wrist band.

Boy2: (to his monitor screen at the image of an animated anthropomorphic cat) Ow, that wasn't necessary.

Cat: (mechanically) Everything has a purpose...

Cat: (mechanically) & Boy2: (sarcastically) ... and nothing goes to waste.

Cat: Correct. Onward to thermal fluid mechanics.

Boy2 returns to paying attention to his monitor.

Scene 2: Canteen, metallic.10-12 people in uniform eating or milling about. A few people scan their wrist scans on a monitor that then displays food options. There is a vague hark back to traditional Korean healthy dishes. There are three food delivery windows and overhead each is a digital screen with numbers ticking up every few minutes. People wait in line and move calmly to receive their food when their numbers are up.

Boy1: (eating slowly, alone at a table, voiceover) I started suspecting something was off when I turned 10. The curriculum started gearing itself towards music and its history.

Across from him, he imagines in the space, a younger version of himself and other young children, aged 8-10, talking in the middle of lunch.

Boy1: It's fun but I don't get why they are making us do this.

Boy3: I know, what use is music here in space?

Girl1: We're just trying to survive. Isn't the sciences our prime objective?

Girl2: I thought we've left all that pop nonsense behind us.

Boy2: (from walking up behind them) Pop?

There's a hush that befalls the group when Boy2 enters. They seem stand-offish with him.

Boy1: (conciliatory) You'll get to it. There's no rush.

Girl2: Let's talk about something else.

Boy2: I just found out what happens to our poop and pee in class today.

All except Boy2 laugh good humouredly, he brightens up with the attention, and sits with them.

Girl1: (genuinely interested) Really? I never thought to ask about that!

Boy1: What did you learn about it?

Boy3: Please... I'm trying to eat here.

Girl2: (amused) Okay, okay, something else... (whispers conspiratorially) you know, I heard the African Federation found a habitable planet?

They let out a small collective gasp and bristle with excitement.

Boy2: (interested) No way... I can't believe it.

The older version of Boy 2 appears in front of Boy1 to sit opposite him and the vision dissipates.

Boy2: I can't believe you didn't get zapped for storming out like that. Those must be some precious hands.

Boy1: Are you here to make fun of me?

Boy2: I'm here to congratulate you.

Boy1: (veiled anger) It's stupid. We don't need a musician, a composer, a singer or whatever it is they want to call me. I am not going to be a performing monkey. It's such a -

Boy2: (interrupts, annoyed) waste of time? of effort? (grins charmingly) The friend I know would never let anything go to waste.

Boy1: (stares at Boy2 in disbelief) You're a crazy bastard.

Boy2: And you're a genius. (with emphasis) Geeeeeenius.

Boy1: Right, genius. Apparently, not the kind they were grooming everyone else for.

Boy2: (mimicking the robot monitor voice) Everything has a purpose, meow...

Boy 1: (chuckling, mood lightened) I can't believe you still keep that cat around. I got rid of the animal tutor function ages ago.

Boy2: He's grown on me. At least I can forgive him for being so cute even while he's zapping me all the time.

Boy1: (friendly jibe) So, still learning about poop and pee?

Boy2: You mean (in affected posh manner) regarding our Waste production and Management Systems, meow?

Boy1: Idiot. (annoyed in good humour) Just shut up and eat your food.

-End scene-

Scene 3

Boy 1, now Young Brother (YB). A muscled dark-skinned African woman, dressed in a formal western dress shirt with short sleeves and crisp long pants. Scene: a small office, with large storage cabinets and two comfortable chairs.

YB breathing heavily, hunched over the traditional algaita close to his chest.

YB: Well, that was a disappointing exercise.

The female African Ambassador sits opposite him, holding the Djembe between her thighs expertly, mildly critical but composed.

AA: You are too hard on yourself. You have improved much.

YB: But not enough, not as fast as you have with the janggu.

AA: What can I say, the drums are closest to my heart.

YB looks as though he is about to resume playing the instrument again but hesitates.

AA: I have had a bit more time than you, even I have not fully mastered the algaita. There is always more to learn from my own teacher.

YB: (voiceover, spiteful) Must be nice, having a teacher...

AA: I'm sorry

YB: For reading my mind?

AA: It's too obvious on your face.

YB: (exaggeratedly gesturing to the small room) That's just how I ended up here, just so much emotion.

AA: (laughs good humouredly) Again?

YB responds by picking up the instrument again. They play in decent enough harmony for a half a minute before they are suddenly interrupted by the beep and unlocking of the chamber door. YB's older brother enters unperturbed but his eyes widen a little.

YB: Older brother!

OB smiles at YB but bows to the ambassador.

OB: I'm sorry for interrupting. (to YB) I thought your schedule was empty, I'll come by again later. (to AA) Please excuse me.

AA rises slowly throughout this exchange. This act commands their attention.

AA: No, it is I who has overstayed my welcome.

YB: (voiceover) The way she's looking at him - I had a sudden vision of a tiger on the prowl. I saw a video of it once but here in reality, my body froze. But my older brother, prey and target of the hunt, was non-plussed, calm - almost like he has played this game before.

AA approaches OB slowly. She is slightly taller than he is, even in flat shoes. She opens her communicator and it scans his face. In a moment, it displays statistics and data regarding his role in the Federation. As she reads it, she comments aloud...

AA: Hm, impressive, for one so young. 29 and not yet chosen for reproduction yet? Getting a little old, aren't you?

OB: (sly smirk) Haven't I? Perhaps you don't have the security clearance for that ambassador.

AA leans slightly on her back foot, narrowing her eyes in annoyance but a hint of a smile creeping across her lips.

YB: (voiceover) You just had to challenge her, didn't you, older brother?

YB's tummy growls and he laughs sheepishly to break the tension.

OB: You must be hungry. I'll put in an order for your favourite dish. (starts to key in data into his own communicator) I'll see you in the food hall. (to AA) Excuse me, ambassador.

OB leaves the room and YB starts packing.

YB: Thank you ambassador, next session at 09 00 as usual?

AA: Were you hiding him from me?

YB: (sarcastically) Of course, my older brother is such a priceless treasure, no one should be allowed to gaze upon him.

AA delivers a light karate chop to his head.

YB: (mock horror) Ow! International violence, inform the authorities!

They laugh.

AA: Tsk, go you fool.

YB stumbles out of the room playfully.

YB: //voice over// Sometimes it pays to play dumb, but I doubt that fooled her. She's too sharp, far too smart for me.

Left alone in the room, AA sends a voice message, in Xhosa(subtitled), over her communicator.

AA: (sly smile) Send a message to the Council of Mothers. Viable candidate found, further stats to be advised.

Scene 4

YB and OB have dinner. Rice and some side dishes. YB looks warily at OB, while chewing anxious and somewhat absentmindedly on his portions of food.

OB: (noticing YB's trepidation) It's nothing for you to worry about.

YB: (pauses and resumes a normal pace of eating) I'm not worried. //I'm lying and he know it.//

OB: (chuckles) It'll be fun.

YB: //Federation disputes are never fun. We can't afford wars. Haven't we learnt anything from history?// If you say so, OB.

OB's communicator beeps breaking the tacit silence between them. YB tenses and stares at it. OB continues eating as the communicator announces monotonously.

OB Communicator: Level 4 Access granted to AA, ambassador of the Council of Mothers, by authority of the Korean Federation.

OB: (smiling and amused) Wow, that woman sure works fast.

YB: (frozen) OB, are you really okay with this?

OB: (shrugs) You know genetics is law, if she has a case, who am I to disagree?

YB: (recoils suddenly from OB, half amused and half accusatory) You like her - wow, you really like her don't you?

OB: 'Like' is a strong word. 'Attraction' possibly. (suddenly serious) Remember YB, sometimes... human instinct does more than human reason can.

Scene 5

YB in bed.

YB (overlapping with OB's voice over): And I //you// of all people, should know that.

YB: //When we left Earth, love was one of the human emotions we had trouble leaving behind and we smuggled some of it on board, spent years unpacking it and still trying to tame it. But Love doesn't listen to reason...

YB gets jolts out of bed and folds out a piano from the side of the wall in the room. His fingers hovering over the keys as the voice over plays on.

... so we started by taking institutions that depended on it away. No marriages, no families, no church of gods or goddesses. Only the love of one's fellow man, of humanity, of self-sacrifice for the Korean Federation.

YB starts playing _____ on the piano.

They - We, we threw away all our traditional love songs, how many of them lost to time or hidden somewhere beneath layers and layers of security. I was certain that this was the basis of all human passion and ambition, (the music he plays reaches a crescendo) how could we have lived without love?//

YB stops playing suddenly, with a violent pound upon the keys, breathing heavily. He falls back onto his bed in frustration at the bead of a camera above his bed. 

Scene 6

The screen shows YB on his bed through the vantage point of the camera and zooms out to a small room where a much older female therapist (FT) pauses the video, her legs crossed demurely as she looks to YB with concern.

FT: Would you care to explain why you were so agitated?

YB: It's just the music. I was writing something and it just slipped through my fingers. Doesn't that happen to you sometimes?

As YB walks back to his office along the corridors passing neat rows of men and women maintaining a formal professional conversation - otherwise ignoring each other completely.

YB: //There is no privacy on this ship. No secret tryst between man and woman, girl or boy. No secret offspring of sudden lust. Not even a slip of paper in the sincerest romance, not unless the Repopulation department approved of it first. Limited resources, you know. Any child not passing their standard of perfection - was a waste of resources. No waste, remember?//

YB: //We took pills for such urges. OB still takes them, doesn't he? Then how?// 

The screen shows a flashback to AA and OB's confrontation.

We were 11 when the pills were added to our dietary supplements. We accepted it as necessary. We didn't know any better. I kept taking the pills till I was 16, when I was assigned to this music as medicine program, the pills were optional. Some days I could feel my body rage with desire, still strangely aware of this wild drive as though a part of myself was separate and watching the physical self spiral out of control. When making music did not suffice as an outlet, I let it out on a punching bag, till my hands were sore and the fear of injuring them further brought me back to my senses. These hands are my most precious instruments. I was always afraid and went back to a schedule of eating them, every five days or so, just keeping the monster at bay, to unleash only when I could properly harness it. It's too bad we're satisfied with just repressing it.

Other societies might be different. Watching AA on the drums, I'm almost sure her people are closer to the truth than we are and so their music can do much more than I ever can. I am not enough for that mission of bringing Love back to us.//

The voice over plays across the set-up of scene 5

Scene 7 YB and AA play a musical fusion, with instruments of each other's culture. YB on the drums and AA on the gayageum. The authenticity of the music being rendered is key to the scene.

YB: //Her, I could not read as easily as I did OB. He had his guard down around me. She was the kind to speak plainly but hold nothing in her face.//

YB: (once the piece was over) Why him?

AA: (smirks) That's what's distracting you?

YB: (shrugs non-noncommittally)

AA: (fiddling with the instrument again, improvising) Aside from the genetic efficiency and instinctual human attraction? (pauses) Honestly, I don't know. He looks at me the way all of you Koreans do. Yes, (squints her eyes narrowly at YB) even you, exoticise me. The strange fears and desire for the "other" we all have.

YB: You have it too. Let's hear it. How do you see us?

AA: (mock fawning, her playing more intense) Oh you know, the well-groomed clean-cut frugal Korean man, shy to public displays of romance but quietly passionate, studious, multi-talented -

YB: (interrupts, stopping her playing with a sharp beat on his drum ) -enough. I get it. 

AA: (stunned a moment then laughs)

YB: You stereotype each other so... it cancels out?

AA: Yes and no. (puts her instrument away) It is awareness and acceptance of that. And, (reaching over to put her hand over his. YB tries to hide his discomfort but does not draw away) to move past that into a real and visceral experience of another human being.

YB: I feel like I know/hear of what you are saying but it is something I cannot understand...

AA/YB: (AA interjects and they say it simultaneously) Yet. (she smiles and moves to take the drums from him)

AA: I have enjoyed working with you on this cultural music exchange. Most think it is folly, who needs music? But you know why, don't you?

YB: (rises and bows low and stiffly) It has been my pleasure.

AA: (slightly taken aback) It shouldn't be so strange how much like your brother you are when you are serious.

YB stays bowed. AA makes a motion to tenderly stroke the top of YB's head but clenches and retracts it instead. She walks away assuredly 

AA: Goodbye.

YB keeps his pose until the door to the room closes, then he straightens up and looks at the gayageum softly.

 

End scene-

 

Scene 8: A sparse clinical room with a large bed at the centre, the lights are dimmed. The scene should be shot with only [parts] of the actors seen but not their whole body. AA is seated on top of OB.

OB: [face] I'm surprised all that paperwork has not dimmed your enthusiasm.

AA: [hands on OB's shoulders] You'll need all the flattery you can get to stay in the game.

OB: [hands on AA's hips] It's not flattery if it's true. You are a good teacher.

AA: [lips by OB's ear] And you're a good student. (almost a whisper) It's dangerous, such material in the wrong hands.

OB: [hands across AA's back in an embrace] I always had the security clearance, I just never saw the need.

AA: [face] With the pills, I think not.

OB: [feet as he flips her over on her back] Talking politics kills the mood, no? [face] With all of them watching?

The camera zooms out showing his body atop hers, their lower halves covered by a thin blanket, his arm covering her breasts from view. The zoom out continues pass a large glass window showing three young clinicians, two girls one boy, in lab coats, mid-type into their communicators who look stunned as OB addresses them. Behind them, two older women, one Korean in a high-ranking uniform arms crossed and sullen while the other, an African woman in plain garb, leans idly against the back wall, eyes closed.

AA: [hand on OB's face to turn him away from the camera] Let's talk babies then. 

 

TBC


End file.
